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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859752">I'm Going Slightly Mad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice'>HopeCoppice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Other, Plants, Silly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:02:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale is ready to express himself. Crowley is perplexed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Name That Author Round Six</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'm Going Slightly Mad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the go-events server's Name That Author challenge. The prompt was "No conversation's a good place to start... I wanna speak in tongues".</p>
<p>Title is a Queen song, fic is short and silly, hope you enjoy it.</p>
<p>CW for a character (briefly) thinking he's going mad.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I don’t think you </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to tell you how to make your feelings known to Crowley,” Tracy said, lowering her teacup and raising an eyebrow at him over the top of it. “I think you just want me to tell you you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I- I really would like some advice,” Aziraphale protested, “I want it to be just right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, I think he’ll be glad to hear it as long as you don’t start speaking in tongues.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Unless you think he’d be into that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know…” He paused for a moment, considering the idea. “Do you know, I think he might.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley was losing his mind. He was certain of it. His infernal brain clearly wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing, it couldn’t cope with it. He wasn’t sure quite where the snap had occurred - when they’d stopped Armageddon, perhaps, or when he’d gone up to Heaven - a crazy risk, for a demon - but at some point, he’d clearly lost the plot. He certainly didn’t remember purchasing - or miracling up, for that matter - a single </span>
  <em>
    <span>dracaena trifasciata</span>
  </em>
  <span>, let alone the six he’d found around his flat in the last three days. He could, however, concede that it was the sort of plant he might acquire as a joke. A snake plant. Very funny, his subconscious. If only it wasn’t acting of its own accord, without his knowledge</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when he opened his front door to find Aziraphale waiting outside, holding yet another potted snake plant, he assumed the angel was some sort of hallucination and very nearly shut the door on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Angel,” he replied, and reached out to touch his arm. Solid. Real. As was the potted plant, when he prodded it in turn. “Oh, no, did I start miracling these into the bookshop, as well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You- no. No, why, don’t you like them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like them?” He hadn’t considered it; he hadn’t given them much thought as anything other than the symptoms of a mental break. “They’re all right, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Oh, dear. I thought you’d like- I can take them back- I know you like plants-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you on about, angel?” He turned from the door to drift back to his throne, and Aziraphale followed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re gifts. To say… well… to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley’s brain crashed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To say…” He looked around, helplessly, at the pots dotted around the flat. “How? How was I supposed to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you </span>
  </em>
  <span>from that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait. You…” He reached out and took the plant from Aziraphale’s hands, setting it on his desk. “You’re saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. Yes. Am I too late?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No. I- yeah, I love you too- why </span>
  <em>
    <span>plants?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not just any plants,” Aziraphale told him, blushing furiously. “Snake plants. I thought… since it was so hard to get the words off of </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>tongue… some mother-in-law’s tongues might be more eloquent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re ridiculous,” Crowley scoffed, and kissed him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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